All language subtitles for Dietland.S01E03.HDTV.x264-BATV

Previously on "Dietland"...

I can't authorize this surgery

unless you lose another 15 pounds.

Doesn't my insurance cover most of this?

You need to pay in full for your visits.

- Any word back from Malleck Ferguson?
- I've tried everywhere. Nothing.

He's probably on a shoot.

Oh! Hey!

I want you to go see someone.

I think that you could do great,
meaningful work

that could help a lot of women.

And when you complete the program,

I will write you a check for $20,000.

The first step
would be getting off the Y.

I asked for dressing on the side.

But the chef didn't dress it, ma'am.

Where's my warm lemon vinaigrette?

Jennifer was dropping men from the sky,

but none of us knew that yet.

All I knew was, I had a date
with Verena Baptist.

Nothing is off-limits, Plum.

No food, no thought.

The New Baptist Plan actually
isn't about deprivation,

it's about being kinder to yourself.

OK. Sounds good.

It sounded like a woo-woo
version of Waist Watchers.

As we discussed, for this to
work, you need to go off the Y.

That's all the first phase consists of.

When your body's gotten used
to a drug like that, detox

can be... an adventure.

Well, done.

I flushed 'em yesterday.

How long have you been taking Y again?

Nine years... give or take?

OK. So when you've been taking
antidepressants for that long,

the way to go off them is to taper
slowly over several months.

Going cold turkey's not
safe, or pleasant.

I need you call your doctor,
get a new prescription.

We want to start by cutting your
usual dose maybe by a quarter,

see how you tolerate it.

OK. Absolutely, I'll do that.

In the meantime, let's
brainstorm some things...

Verena, can I steal you for two seconds?

It's about you-know-what.

Excuse me.

- Hey.
- Hi.

I see you signed on
for Verena's torture sessions.

Good for you. She saved my ass,

and I came in here...

Barbara, let's not scare Plum off.

You know that line,
"I'd never want to belong

to a club that would have me
as a member"?

That's how I felt about Calliope House.

Verena may have been well-meaning,

but she was also the poster
child for skinny entitlement.

She thinks she gets it, but she's
never been in my extra-wide shoes.

Thank you for your patience.

I know you have no reason to trust me.

So...

here is proof that I am for real.

If you want, call the bank, see that
the funds are there. Be my guest.

All I ask is that you wait to
cash it till you finish the plan.

Alicia.

This was my golden ticket.

Is there a problem?

Should I have made it out to Plum?

No. No, it's...

perfect.

Calliope House was changing my routine.

And while I desperately
needed the money,

I still wasn't sold
on the New Baptist Plan.

You know, I like it better when you
come in with a good-lookin' detective

- who buys cake.
- Right? Me too.

You should call him.

No. Again, he's just working me.

So? Everybody's working
everybody until they're not.

No, I saw something, Plum...

The way Dominic was lookin' at you.

It was clear, Plum, that man is...

Whatever! He's not even my type.

Dude, you've dated
only one person. Singular.

You have no idea what your type is.

Dude, this is a pointless conversation.

- Even if I did like him...
- You do. I can tell.

Even if I did...

he's just... he just wants me
to talk about the case.

That's called an opening.

Do I have to do
all the work around here?

Return of the Glamazons.

It's awful for business,

but I gotta say, this year,
I'm kinda into Fashion Week.

If you are suddenly straight,
I'm gonna die of confusion.

You're safe.

No, I'm happy for you.

You're doing that article
on the runway show.

This is a good thing.
So when is it again?

And... what are you gonna wear?

I'm not. I am watching it online.

Kitty's assistant gave me a link.

Oh, you're watching it now? Lemme see.

What do we got here?

- What is this?
- I quit Y.

It's phase one
of Verena's New Baptist Plan.

"Side effects include
headaches, nausea, fatigue"...

Well, that's Sunday
morning at my house...

"heart palpitations, brain zaps"...

- What the hell is a brain zap?
- Beats me.

"Obsessive thoughts, paranoia,
hallucinations. Suicidal ideations"?

Ok.

No, no, no, you need
to stay on your meds.

Forget Verena.

You can go through insurance
and get your stomach stapled.

Actually, I can't. I have to pay
out-of-pocket and get reimbursed.

And I need more surgery after
the fact for my excess skin,

which is considered cosmetic,
so they won't pay.

Definitely can't afford that.

I don't know about this, Plum.

Have you vetted this woman?

Yeah. Totally.

I Googled her.

She's given boatloads of money
to all kinds of lefty causes.

OK, fine. Whatever.

At least let me stay with you
till you get off the Y.

It looks like it could be scary.

Come on. I'm the girl
who never gets sick, remember?

This isn't germ warfare.
These are chemicals

that were helping your brain
and now are not.

This is serious, Plum,
you can't take this lightly.

Stop! I'm gonna hole up,
I'll relax, write my piece.

It'll be like a withdrawal-cation...

with some work on the side.

Mm-hm. So you're not just
gonna lay up on the couch

and binge-watch
those stupid nature shows?

No. Working.

The whole time. One hundred percent.

Anyway, I'm going off the grid
for a few days.

I just want to let you know.

To write. I'll call you when I'm done.

All right. Love you, Ma.

Hello.

Oh, hey. Hi.

This is Plum.

Sorry to call instead of text.

No, I'm glad you did. What's up?

Are you... busy?

No, no. Today's my day off.

It's nice to hear your voice.

Um, I just wanted to let you
know that......

- Is everything OK?
- Yeah.

I was gonna call your phone
message and just say,

"Hello, Detective,"

I'm going out of town for a few days

"in case you need
your beauty informant."

And then just, like, hang up.

My what?

Beauty informant.

Like a criminal informant,
but... beautiful.

Oh. Yeah, yeah. Got it.

Hey, while I got you,

do you know someone named Leeta?

You mean that, uh, weird girl
who works in the beauty closet?

Yeah. You know her?

Not really.

Ahh, it's all right.
Don't worry about it.

S... Yeah, so, you know, listen,
have a nice trip, and, uh,

don't be a hero, OK? When
it comes to helping me out.

We still don't know if these hackers
are connected to this homicide.

- W-What homicide?
- All I can say,

somebody in the Austen
Media family was murdered.

Missing fashion photographer
Malleck Ferguson

was found dead today.

A surreal twist?

Witnesses say his body
fell out of the sky.

So far, authorities have no leads,

but the FAA confirms that several planes

were in the area before Ferguson's body

hit a Lower East Side restaurant patio.

More as this wild story develops.

All right, we're clear.

Send regrets to Jason Wu.

I'm absolutely not going
to Yeezy this season.

And find out what time
Victoria's show starts.

I don't want to be sitting there
like some fool, waiting, again.

- If I could go back in time...
- You can't. I just wish

you were capable of learning
from your mistakes.

Confirm my re-see with Rodarte,

and then make sure
the helicopter is there

to take me to the Open. I want...

God! I know we joked about this, but...

- The timing isn't a coincidence.
- Of course not.

And dropping his body out of a plane?

It's Fashion Week. They're already
calling this the Runway Murder.

Focus. Please?

This is bad. It could come back on us.

We stood behind Malleck during
the first few rape allegations

and that media boycott.

How he got that girl
to recant, I'll never...

Green tea, loose leaf,
not in some awful paper cup.

- Not on the record.
- Mm-hm.

We still paid for Malleck's legal
defense and... and his PR team.

I'm sure there's something in all
our leaked information about it.

Well, why would Austen Media
pay for Malleck's legal team?

Because Malleck is...

Was part of the family.

If you, I don't know,

liked to diddle golden retrievers,

we'd do the same thing for you.

Well, fortunately for both of us,

I broke it off with Rover.

Funny.

If you get any Intel on
who's behind this, tell me.

If the monsters who killed Malleck

are the same ones who hacked us,

Stanley, and his family,
could be targets.

I could be a target.

Or me.

Yes. Also that.

Just get on it, will you?

When the body dropped,
I thought it was fake.

Like a Fashion Week stunt?

Or that SVU show was filming.

They're always coming up
with crazy ways to kill people.

That show's been on forever.

♪- So, one bad guy murdered,

one brain zap, and some
remote fashion show viewing...

So far, my withdrawal-cation
didn't seem so bad.

But as some drunken tailgaters and I

were about to find out,
it was just getting started.

- Synced and corrected by Shazi89 -
- www.addic7ed.com -

The two victims shown
here, French soccer players,

were recently reported missing
from Paris,

and appear to be the latest
victims of the Runway Murders.

I can't watch.

Put it back on, jackass.

Don't talk to him like that, jackass.

... unconfirmed reports of four more men

dropped across New Jersey,
Rhode Island, and Pennsylvania,

bringing the possible total
to seven victims.

- It's Jennifer! It has to be.
- Who's Jennifer?

Stay current or you're fired, Ben.

Not really.

Oh, it just makes me sick.

Hey, is Plum working today?

Her singing, it calms me down, you know?

It's like angels humming.

She is not.

Calm yourself by serving my customers.

Absolutely, sir.

Hey, there you are.

- Hi.
- Well, you don't look suicidal to me.

Thanks. I try. What's up?

Listen, why don't you, um,

why don't you stay on your meds

and let Ben be your boyfriend?

- Ugh.
- What? He's adorable.

And your total disinterest in him

got him beggin' like Rolo.

No offense.

He is adorable,
but I can't have sex thoughts

about somebody who thinks
that Greenland is a continent.

Yeah, that is pretty sad.

He has no stomach for the news,

much less my conspiracy theories.

Speaking of which,
these Runway Murders...

- La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!
- What? What?

No. Total media blackout.
I have to work.

I want no negative vibes
while I withdraw.

- Oh, come on...
- I promise,

I will juice with you about everything

- as soon as I'm back on the grid.
- OK, but the soup, right? It's lo-cal...

- I'll talk to you soon.
- Plum...

- Call me, all right?
- Thank you.

Call me!

The withdrawals?
Yeah, they were no joke.

I started seeing things.

I started answering
Kitty's Girls emails...

Inappropriately.

"Before I can answer your question,"

I'd like to ask if you get pleasure

from inserting tampons into your vagina?

Because I don't. But if you do,

"then that's no one's damn business."

At least I was safe in my apartment

with my nature documentaries.

Except there is no safe place

when you're going through withdrawal.

the smaller gazelle.

He makes his approach.

And now, the hunt is on.

Ohh. I have a corn.

It really hurts.

Do you see anything?

You look like hell.

I'm starving.

I don't have any cereal.

Cereal?

I'm a damn animal.

I eat meat, Plum.

Where the hell's the real food?

- That is my real food.
- No it's not.

You ever been to Mauritania?

Isn't that in West Africa?

Men in Mauritania
love big women so much.

In fact, they encourage girls to eat.
It's called leblouh.

I think they force-feed those girls

so that men want to marry them.

Those girls are tortured.

They eat their own vomit.

Well, there's no winnin' for the ladies.

Remember that song "Been A Son"?

Yeah, Nirvana.

You know, Cobain was a feminist.

Frank L. Baum, too.

Trivia. Tigers love it.

Things are no picnic
for you guys, either.

People hunt you, skin you,

hang you on their walls.

I mean, not me, per Se,
but it's a fair point.

You got any lemon?

How can you not know Nirvana?

Hang on. What?

Water's gone...

but I'm still thirsty.

You drank all the water in New York?

Kinda.

That's impossible.

You know, you smell delicious.

Slow your roll, Big T.
I'm not on the menu.

- Should we order in?
- Yeah.

What do you want?

I want a big,

juicy...

corned beef sandwich,

five pepperoni pizzas, extra cheese,

lobster rolls, a tub of
artisanal cookie dough,

and two liters of Coke. Regular Coke.

It'll be here in 41 minutes.

So what do you wanna do now?

I have to work.

You're a writer.

Why aren't you working
on something more muscular?

I was. I am.

This is my real job, and I'm way behind.

You look exhausted.

Why don't you let me
take over for a while?

Come on.

There you go.

See, tigers are intuitives.
We give excellent advice.

You're the best.

Back in the jungle,

things were just swell.

- It's nice, isn't it?
- Maybe.

I don't think I want to feel
anything until I'm Alicia.

But feelings are great.

Like how?

Can you be more specific?

- You promised.
- I'm sorry.

I didn't know it was on.

Can you tell me more about feelings?

Well...

when I'm on the hunt,

every fiber of my body vibrates.

My mind is quiet, but alert.

And my eyes go from brown...

to green.

- That's awesome.
- Yeah.

It's second only to mating.

These eyes of yours, Plum...

You don't have a little
tiger in you, do you?

I don't think so.

You want some?

Hey. What's with the daffodils?

So does anyone know

if we paid Malleck's legal fees?

That better be hot. Anything else?

The florist can't find enough daisies

to spell out "Daisy Chain."

Is it OK if she tastefully
mixes in daffodils?

It is not. What else?

The printer asked if you
wanted to crop Malleck's name

out of his photographs or reprint
them the same size without...

Hold, please. What were you
going to say?

Oh, uh, as far as we can tell,

the information about Austen
and Malleck wasn't leaked.

As far as I can tell,
that's not very reassuring.

Can you give me a percentage?

Like eighty-three percent.

Good enough.

Why the hell were you using
Malleck's photographs?

I didn't. You said... I thought that...

No one but me thinks.
That's exactly the problem.

I want the same theme,
the same color scheme,

only use photographs
taken by diverse women.

- OK, but we don't have any...
- We're done.

Thank you.

What about Plum? She useful?

Well, she lied to me about knowing a
beauty closet intern named Leeta.

Leeta ghosted after the last hack.

Could be coincidence. I'm telling you,

Plum is the one with a giant red flag.

I even gave her a special assignment

so she didn't suspect
that we had our eye on her.

I'm doing my bit. You do yours.

OK, yes, Plum technically had access,

but I been spending
a lot of time with her,

and she does not fit the profile.

Wrong. She absolutely does.

Her answers to my Kitty letters
have gotten a little...

political recently.

I shouldn't have let it slide,
but I liked sounding worldly.

I'm lost.

Large girls pretend
to be joyful and harmless...

but really, they're jealous
of people like me.

No matter how well you
treat them, they fester.

Understood. I'll stay on her.

So what do I need to know
about these Runway Murders?

Besides Malleck and the soccer players,

they ID'd a lawyer,
some artsy film director,

a pro football player,
and that guy Hal Jizz.

He created those websites...

RevengeHer, VietCooch.

God. He sounds foul.

Are we safe?

Look, the feds are all over this,

but my guys on the squad, they're
saying no one knows who Jennifer is...

Why do I get a novella
when all I want is an answer?

Are. We. Safe.

You're probably OK to keep
working on this thing here...

Probably? I took a risk hiring you.

This isn't the time to be lazy and coy.

OK, the way I see it,

whoever orchestrated something this big

is not wasting their time
hacking into Austen's computers.

They're extremists targeting men.

It had been a wild night,

but I was feeling more like myself.

Or not.

Tiger time. Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Hello? 911 over here.

Plum? What's wrong?

I think I'm allergic to tiger fur.

- Look at my cheeks.
- Your cheeks?

Whatever. I had this epiphany,

and I needed to tell you about it.

I think that this job
is not good for me.

So I'm covering a fashion show, right?

But I'm not invited to the fashion show.

So, you know, why do I not
want a man to touch me?

Because even if I could accept my...

Please... and if I wanted
to go to a fashion show,

- Plum, did you take something?
- Do you think Kitty cares?

Do you think she respects me or my...

Dear... did you take something?

No. That's the point.

I'm not taking anything.

Calliope House. Shit.

Is Verena having you wean
off pharmaceuticals?

Yeah. Why?

She told me not to go cold turkey,

but I thought, how bad
could it possibly be?

Bad. Super bad.

Look at my skin.

Pretty Plum, I wish
I could stay with you,

but I can't miss that damn,
stupid Daisy Chain party.

I'll have the car drop you at home,

but first I want you to call
a friend to be with you, OK?

Oh, my battery's dead.

Benny was on Spotify
when we were making out.

- Benny?
- The tiger.

That's how I got this rash.

Maybe I could just stay here with Leeta.
She's my friend.

Leeta quit.

New York wasn't for her.

It's hard to keep good interns.

How come you didn't tell Dominic?

The detective? I did.

He called and asked for her.
I was very clear.

He doesn't believe you.

Oh? What did he say?

I miss Leeta.

Do you think she misses me?

I wonder if she was in love with me.

She said I was special, which is funny,

but does it mean that she likes
me likes me, the way that you do?

It's lavender oil. Inhale.

- That's nice.
- Mm-hmm.

Let's get you home.

So while I headed home
to lounge in my PJs,

all the women of Austen Media

were stuffing themselves into Spandex

and smiling their way through
Fashion Week.

You look well, Abra.

Did you sleep the whole plane ride?

Ohh. Not a wink.

But I had to get out of the house.

Stanley was being unbearable.

And then our plane got re-routed
twice because of the murders.

You know, nobody even
called him about Malleck.

Maybe the police didn't know
how close they were.

Ha! Stanley despised Malleck.

He just hates being the last to know.

Somebody should have called, that's all.

Did you consider canceling
the party tonight?

You know, for fear that Austen Media

might come across as tone-deaf?

I did consider it.

But that's what the terrorists want.

To scare us. To destroy our way of life.

We can't let them win, can we?

You know, it's strange,
I was just thinking

about Malleck when we were in Dubrovnik.

The women there barely bother to dress.

His kind of hunting ground.

Do you think it's just part of nature

that people want to dominate
and humiliate others?

Mostly men.

It's OK, you can say it.
Just us chickens here.

- Just us old hens.
- We don't show it.

You're goddamn right we don't.

We can't age, or we become invisible.

But men, nobody cares
what they look like,

as long as they have money.

And when they do fail,
so many of them fail up.

Not Malleck.

You know, Kitty, I think
we might like each other.

That could be useful, yes?

Oh God, not another bomb threat.

Party's canceled, ladies. Please get
back in your car and clear the area.

It's my event inside, officer.

Yeah? Well, the mayor's
declared a state of emergency

and canceled Fashion Week
until further notice.

Why would he do that?

Because we got bodies
falling out of the sky.

But if you cancel Fashion Week,
then they win.

Stanley said we should shut it down.

What?!

Why didn't you tell me?

Why did you make me pick you up?

I said I needed to get out of the house.

Time to get movin', ladies.

Officer, I appreciate that
you're trying to follow orders,

- but I really need to get inside.
- Leave or get arrested.

Be smart, like your friend.

- Excuse me.
- I'll just call our corporate counsel...

There you are! I have a car waiting.

Eladio's already speaking
with the mayor's office.

I don't envy Abra.

Being a member of the idle rich

is a fate worse than poverty.

Did you know she graduated
summa from Kellogg?

- You're kidding.
- Not kidding.

She had dozens of offers.

She chose Stanley... And his rules.

Rules? Like what?

He doesn't want his women to work.

Stanley wants them available to...

run the home and suck the dick.

That's why he and Stella
Cross were doomed.

She had no home, so it was all dick.

Stanley and that porn star?

No. Tell me everything.

No. I've already said too much.

That intern of yours.

The Hot Topic reject?

She's a little off, you know?

Well, I encourage eccentricity,

but refuse to tolerate chaos,
so I fired her.

People underestimate you, Julia.

Is that so?

Where they see
a basement-dwelling eccentric,

I see a...

Somebody's taking our picture.

Shit!

Those tabloid scum got us.

No. It's too loud in here.

There's no way he overheard us.

Who cares what he heard? We're eating.

Optics, Julia.

Optics.

I am so proud of you, Plummy.

Who cares what those mean boys say?

You just keep shakin' it, girl.

I will. At this rate,

Kitty's not going
to be alpha cat much longer.

You look great.

Did you bring any meat?

No. You want me to get some?

I want you to stalk the beast

and rip open its flesh before we mate.

I've never been so hot.

Yeah. You're burnin' up.

Mm. But my skin is so soft.

Feel it.

I know, right?

- Hmm?
- It's very soft.

Sensuous. And there's so much of it.

Don't you just wanna get lost in me

and stay there forever?

I think something's burning.

Dominic, how did you get here?

You called me. You remember?

Oh, yeah. And you came.

I'm gonna go check on the stove.

That's Marlowe... Former sitcom star

turned author, activist,
and earth mother.

I never wanted children.

But you have so many.

How's your newest?

I don't know if she's ready for this.

I just want to be careful.

I... I...

I think Plum is one who could
go in the wrong direction.

She's so bright, but she's impulsive.

What'd she do, drop a few
bastards out of a plane, or...

There were over 3 million hits
on VietCooch.

None of the Vietnamese girls were aware

they were being live-streamed.

My name is Hal Jizz...

and I deserve to die.

We lied under oath and
claimed she was a prostitute

who said she was 19.

We knew she was 13.

My name is Malleck F-Ferguson.

I drugged and sexually
assaulted 31 women and girls,

some as... as young as...

As young as 14.

I denied committing these crimes

and hired lawyers

to intimidate and harass my victims.

My name is Malleck Ferguson
and I deserve to die.

In a UNN exclusive,

Jennifer claimed responsibility

for killing 12 men
they call the Dirty Dozen.

They wanted me to make clear

that they chose Fashion Week to
deliver their protest message

because, and I quote,

"The fashion industry dehumanizes women

and fosters rape culture."

The question

is not longer who is Jennifer,

but what is Jennifer?

You don't feel good, Plum?

I was sick.

I'm just tired now.

Seven-fifty, please.

Nice.

You're in such good shape.

What do you do to keep
such a nice shape?

Leave her alone.

You want me to leave you alone, you
probably shouldn't dress like that.

- Your ass is hangin' out.
- Got you on video.

Mind your own business, cow.
No one's lookin' at you.

- Look who's talking, jerk!
- Crawl back under your rock!

He was here last week doing the
same thing. This has to stop.

- It's not OK.
- Jerk.

I just can't decide

do I call Stanley or text Abra?

If Jennifer would threaten anyone at UNN

or Austen Media, you know
I would have called you.

And the police.

Unless it made a better story not to.

Please don't.

Fine. Have me fired.

Have Stanley shut down
the whole station.

Jeremiah, it's Ms. Montgomery.

Please wake Stanley for me.

- There's...
- I'm sorry.

I was wrong. OK?

Excuse me, false alarm.

Tell Stanley we can speak tomorrow.

I want your source.

Kitty, if... if I do that...

You might save thousands of lives.

Jennifer's done. It's old news already.

Oh, really?

Jennifer will be yesterday
before tomorrow.

Nothing ever sticks anymore.

You get five minutes of outrage,

three minutes of fear,

and then everyone switches over

to some cute goat video

and it's "What were we talking about?"

Jennifer's different.

Mark my words.

They won't stop until

they believe they've freed
women from oppression

once and for all.

And that's never gonna happen.

Men would rather destroy the
world than let us rule it.

I'm glad you're not a cop anymore, Dad.

It's too dangerous.

She's worried about Jennifer.

So what did you guys see?

See the video of the guys confessing?

What if Jennifer makes a mistake...

and she kills somebody good? Like you.

Nothin' is gonna happen to me.

Do you still have a gun?

Mama!

What are we celebrating?

- I needed a little sugar.
- Mmm.

Mmm. Caramel. Yum.

Go wash up.

Only Harry Potter.
No computer before bed.

- What's wrong?
- I know money's tight,

but I don't like you workin' doubles.

Well, it isn't forever, baby.

I'm better when I'm busy.

It charges me up. Ya know?

What the hell, Nicky?

- I'm sorry.
- What if somebody sees it?

These women won't open up to you
if they think you're married.

You know I'm superstitious.
You're right. I'm sorry.

How come you always
make me feel like a bully?

Marissa, can we not do this tonight?

Whatever.

So... how's the case going?

It's good. I might have
found an informant.

Yeah? What's her name?

Her name was Plum.

And while she'd been away
on a quick hallucination,

the whole world seemed
to have lost its mind.

- I'm calling the cops!
- It's us, honey!

Open the door, Plum.

- Mom?
- Ohh!

Oh, thank God you're OK!

- What are you doing here?
- She drove all night from St. Louis.

What were you doing in St. Louis?

My plane was grounded,
then I got a rental.

Steven told me about
your withdrawal drama.

It was the only way
to stop her from calling 911.

- Why?
- The phone calls, baby.

You said you started modeling,

that Benny the Bengal Tiger
was a good kisser...

I thought you were
having a psychotic break.

I didn't want you to worry.

- You could have died.
- Please don't exaggerate, Mom.

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

This Verena woman, what's that about?

Who pays somebody that kind of money...

- You told her about Verena.
- Can you blame me?

- This is so typical...
- Enough. Enough.

We all did what we did,

but it sounds like you're
joining a cult or something.

- I mean...
- Damnit!

What kind of therapist bribes you

and then forces you to go off
doctor-prescribed medication?

She didn't! Verena wanted
me to get more pills.

- She feels guilty because her mother was...
- Steven told me.

That's not the point.

You shouldn't be getting
the surgery anyway.

There's no reason to let Verena
torture you for money.

You're beautiful the way you are,

and you have a good life, Plum.

Things at work are finally
starting to work out...

Stop. Just stop. Please.

I get it. You love me, you were scared.

I get it, I'm sorry.
But I'm not a child.

And I'm not a moron.

We don't think that.

I don't want to be a glamazon.

I just want to get on an airplane

and not have to apologize
to the person I sit next to.

I want to go to a bar and get
hit on by some bald guy,

and I want us to argue about whether
said bald guy is actually into me

or whether he just wants to get laid.

- I know.
- You don't, Steven!

You can't!

Going off Y, I got my feelings back,

and it made me remember why
I wanted 'em gone.

Don't say that, honey.

No, no. What I realized was,

I don't hate myself...
The world hates me.

For being like this.

Every day I walk around in this skin,

people look at me
like I have the plague.

They act like I'm a stain.

They stare and laugh and yell,

and worst of all, they tell me
I have such a pretty face...

and then they lecture me
on how I can fix my body,

because how I am is wrong.

- That's not true.
- It is true.

You can't see it because you love me.

But if this is it,

if this is my life,

if this is my body...

I'd rather be dead.

- Synced and corrected by Shazi89 -
- www.addic7ed.com -